


Regrets

by MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh



Series: Loki Character Studies [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bottom Loki (Marvel), Implied Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Loki Whump, M/M, Regrets, Thor is mentioned, and kind of rapey, angsty, i wrote this before i saw infinity war, set during Thor:Ragnarok, sorry if it's a bit much people, the frostmaster is tentative, the sex is mostly non-con, this is kind of sad im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 13:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15196082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh/pseuds/MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh
Summary: Loki can count on one hand the things he really, truly regrets.





	Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, this is angsty and sad. Sorry about that. This is supposed to be me stretching my fanfic-writing legs and joining the Marvel fandom, but we shall see about that. I started this before I ever saw Infinity War, but I might make a version that includes events from the movie because I have a lot of emotions about the shit that went down there. 
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Non-con, as much as Loki would like to make you and himself think that he wants this, he very much does not, so just keep that in mind. If that will trigger you in any way, I really recommend not reading.

Loki can count on one hand the things he really, truly regrets.

Most would call him a monster; a sociopath with an affinity for troublemaking that leaves uncanny levels of destruction in his wake. The fact that he is not even the slightest bit remorseful about any of it would only further their argument.

Sometimes, when he has been left to his own thoughts for too long and his seidr itches at the tips of his fingers, he wonders if they are right. Perhaps he truly is a monster.

Most of the things Loki has done have been for his own gain, to save his own skin. He can’t regret those things though, because no one else was going to do it for him. The god of mischief got himself into trouble, surely he can get himself out of it as well. 

He’s become used to having to fend for himself, and perhaps that’s how he’s gotten into this mess, backed himself into a corner too tight to escape from without some sort of self-sacrifice in the process.

He chuckles slightly to himself, clenching his teeth tight in an attempt to ignore the pain running up his spine. Yes, self-sacrifice was what he’d called it while trying to convince himself this was what he needed to do to survive. In order to escape this Norns-damned planet. 

It had been easy, at first, getting on the Grandmaster’s good side. Wriggling his way up through the ranks of Sakaarian high society had been simple, like stretching muscles that hadn’t been worked in decades, muscle memory guiding his way to the top. By the fourth day, Loki found himself in the perfect position -- the right party at the right moment, the Grandmaster’s ancient blue eyes watching him with carefully feigned disinterest, an invitation to meet at a later time in a more private room. 

The mind and the body were two different things when it came down to it, Loki could attest to this. He’d let his body take over the moment he’d entered the room where the Grandmaster was waiting, hips swaying in what he knew to be an attractive manner as he crossed to the couch where the elder waited. 

Loki’s spirit watched from somewhere hidden deep within as the Grandmaster methodically took both his clothes and his dignity apart piece by piece, strewn about the room in the process. As he watched, he wished that he knew a spell to stop himself from feeling every touch pressed against his skin, each kiss that the Grandmaster pressed against his parted lips, how his heart pounded as he was prepared and finally pushed into. He wished he could no longer feel the regret that washed across his body as it gave in to both the pain and the pleasure. 

There are three things that Loki regrets more than anything. 

He regrets the betrayal and distrust he instilled in Thor’s heart when he stabbed him on the roof of Stark’s tower in New York City. He can still remember the look he saw on Thor’s face when he knew that their emotional ties, their brotherhood they had maintained since their nursery days, had severed for good. It had hurt, more than being pounded into the ground by the hulking green monster, more than being denied Odin’s approval his entire life.

He regrets the last words he ever spoke to Mother before her death. The tears in her eyes as he swiped her image away for the very last time ingrained themselves into his brain, and they watch him every moment the guilt becomes too much. The disappointment in her eyes is the reason he can’t sleep some nights, because he knows that she knows what he did. How he betrayed her in her last moments. He led her killer straight to her door, and he’ll never forget that.

And now, Loki regrets letting this elder take the last shreds of his dignity from him with each thrust in and out of his aching body. His seidr senses the moment the child inside of him is conceived, before the elder has even separated from his body. He lets himself slump to the floor off the edge of the bed; his legs tangle in the yellow of his cape where it had been thrown earlier. 

In the morning, he’ll limp back to his rooms and dust himself off, moving forward as he always does. When he sees Thor during a party in the Grandmaster’s tower, he’ll know that the time has come. 

He’s getting off this planet, regrets be damned. 


End file.
